slipjig3 | Entries tagged with random

Not even going to bother numbering the Things, just gonna type until my job makes me resume working:

==> Woke up at stupid o'clock in the morning with a random leg cramp so bad that my howling woke up

hypnagogie. It eventually calmed down and we both fell asleep again, but it's two days gone and still sore, although I can finally walk without shambling like a grue. Onward with the Advil and electrolytes.

==> I'm somehow done with Christmas shopping, more or less? Could y'all peek out your windows and see if there's like a plague of locusts or some such? 'Cause that shizz doesn't happen, like, ever.

==> Every year we make a point of watching every Oscar nominated movie in above-the-line categories (picture, director, acting, writing). Given how well The Substance is faring in preliminary awards contention, there's a good chance I'm going to find out which is stronger: my aversion to body horror, or my obsessive completionism. I suspect it's the latter. Hoo boy.

==> Addendum to the above: I did make it through Titane and a few other notables, so I'll probably be okay? Also, it's not like we never bail out of Oscar movies partway, so there is an escape valve. We made it 45 minutes into Blonde before the question of "Why are they subjecting us to this?" morphed into "Wait, why are we subjecting us to this?" and flipped to QI reruns.

I just bit my lip when I sneezed, so the Universe is telling me to wind this up. How's everyone doing?

Current Mood: sore
Current Music: "Ouch!" The Rutles

The whole "five things make a post" concept is as timeworn as movie theater carpeting, but posting is a habit that I'm still working on redeveloping and long-form anything still feels like a bridge too far, so here we go:

1) Achievement unlocked: I shared a childhood story that made my therapist go, "What the fuck...?!" (Not quite but almost verbatim.) She was furious on behalf of my younger self, which was gratifying but made me stop and wonder why I hadn't been furious until relatively recently, so I guess we have a Thing to talk about next week.

2) I seem to be back on the Book of Face, which I'm not entirely pleased about, but I did nuke my Xitter account from orbit, so I've got that going for me. (I do have an occasionally-used Bluesky account, user name slipjig, if'n y'all are over in those parts.)

3) We sometimes use a hot water bottle in bed on chilly nights, which we abbreviate to a "HoWaBo," which is why, when

hypnagogie requested this evening that I prepare said HoWaBo, I replied that I needed to find the WaBo so I could make it Ho.

4) I don't buy Christmas anything until after Thanksgiving on general principle, but fuck principles when there are white fudge Oreos.

5) I was going to tell a story from Sunday here, but I'm realizing that it's too long for the five-things format, so remind me to circle back around to the crazy dude in the coffeehouse carrying around a 1968 Archie and Jughead comic and a used Barbra Streisand LP.

Also, I sprung for a paid account, so I've got my full set of icons back. Woo.

Current Music: "A Lotta Things," Bonny Doon

Random stuff, in the order that they occur to me:

1) The Rolling Stone 500 Albums listening project is off to a good start: Ask Rufus by Rufus with Chaka Khan, Los Angeles by X, Nevermind by Nirvana (the only one here I'd listened to in full before now), The Clash self-titled, Dónde Están los Ladrones by Shakira, and Mama's Gun by Erykah Badu, in that order. Six albums, six thumbs up. Since they're supposed to be in random order, I've been having

hypnagogie pull the index cards. I told her she's been good luck so far; she says, "Or is it because you love music?" Since she just pulled Willy and the Poor Boys by Creedence Clearwater Revival, I'm sticking with the good luck theory. (For now, anyway. Drake could turn up aaaaany second now.)

2) I finally posted a new YouTube video after a more-than-two-month silence, having finally recovered sufficiently from the dag-flabberin' click-and-drag NIGHTMARE I'd set for myself on the previous one. I'm still trying to get up the gumption to put myself back on camera, but I did settle for doing a voiceover, which is plenty vulnerable and gives me ample opportunity to cuss about my lack of decent gear. The vid has been received well—apparently people like it better when you don't smack them with a 45-minute clip montage, go figure.

3) True to form, I've already started the next video. Hi, I'm Adam.

4) I picked up some vanilla ice cream and blood orange Sanpellegrino to make a concoction I whipped up when we had COVID last year and were spending our time mainlining Murder She Wrote reruns and praying for morphine. Simple enough recipe: vanilla ice cream, blood orange Sanpellegrino, blender, pour, drink. Very comforting when you're spiking a temperature. We called it the "Fever Dreamsicle" mainly because

hypnagogie wouldn't let me call it "Et Tu, Fruté". (I haven't made it yet this week, because I can't be arsed to haul out the blender.)

5) To be clear: even if I'm not replying, I'm reading. I'm pleased to be shown this part of your life.

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: "Penitentiary Philosophy," Erykah Badu

1) Another rainy morning, another walk denied, boo and fie and a pox upon it all, even though the rain and the high temp in the mid-70s are both still nice.

2) No idea what I'm having for breakfast today. We're out of bagels, we're out of avocados for smushing on toast, and I've come to the conclusion that cereal is not actually a food because I end up carb crashing an hour and a half later. We do, however, have healthy-brand Oreos, so....

3) I took a Klonopin yesterday afternoon to see if it would help the anxiety-related lightheadedness. It, shall we say, did not: I stood up, I turned left, the room turned right, I sat down again, and long story short we ordered from Portland Pie instead of me making chicken florentine pasta as planned because knives and I were not going to get along. Chalk one up for science.

4) I keep saying I'm going to write at length about the YouTube channel here, and I never do. I also keep saying I'm going to make a new video for the YouTube channel, and ditto. I'm sensing a correlation.

5) Just realized I never made coffee this morning. If you'll excuse me....

Current Mood: groggy
Current Music: "List of Demands (Reparations)," The Kills

I'm starting to get the feeling that evening is not the time to be posting stuff. Even after a profoundly non-mentally-taxing day like today, the thought of sticking words into sentences into paragraphs into anything remotely coherent makes my brain twitch like the weird Jello wad that it is. But since I'm here, let's see what happens.

I think I went just a tad over the line at the gym this morning. Tired and sore are normal, but this was tired and sore and...something else, like I sprained my ghost a bit. Didn't affect the rest of the day for the most part, except for the bit when I was stapling a bunch of piles of card stock together, which is one of those activities that could kill you but the obituary would list it a homicide to spare your family the humiliation.

The office was ridiculously quiet, outside of illicit crossword construction, the aforementioned stapler fandango, and my laptop coughing up a lung when I was literally not even touching it. The company is going to be closed for the entirety of next week, so we're taking bets as to whether this week is going to be five days of Silence of the Power Ties or three days of silence followed by two days of shrieking Nordic epic deadline panic. Pray for me.

We made egg roll in a bowl for dinner. 'Twas tasty.

Current Music: "Paper Trails," Darkside

1) Weekend temps tapped at the mid-'80s, which for this part of Maine is kind of weird. We only have one air conditioner put up right now, partly because we haven't needed more and partly because the living room window is directly below the drainpipe which means cramming towels behind the couch every time it rains. Pondering solutions before July hits.

2) Since The Godfather last week was such a success, last night we gave The Godfather Part II a test drive. Fun fact: if you accidentally start on disc 2, the movie is very confusing. "Who's the weird senator dude? Why is De Niro whispering at that old guy in Sicily and then gutting him like a lake trout? WHY DID YOU DO THAT TO FREDO??"

3) We're making an attempt to buy our food from farmshare and the farmers' market whenever possible, which meant a nice chicken pesto pappardelle last night and a gorgeous roast chicken today. I am so on board.

4) I have to go to the office tomorrow. I do not want to go to the office tomorrow.

5) The Great Pottery Throw Down is good for the soul.

Current Music: "June," Florence and the Machine

While I finish digesting my lunch and feigning industry:

1) Things that make my ears prick up: "I need to throw out some of these magazine racks." Suffice it to say that I now have a box of magazine racks, because you can't stop the music, the feeling, or the covetous grabby-hands when shelving supplies are at stake.

2) NPR Music has created a series of weekly-updated Spotify playlists, and the one entitled Slingshot is enough for me to add them to my Christmas card list.

3) Recreational marijuana possession is now legal in the state of Maine. NO REASON WHY I MENTION THIS CHRIST ALMIGHTY WHY ARE YOU ASKING SO MANY QUESTIONS

4) The temperature in Brunswick squeaked above 80 yesterday, for the first and only time so far this year. I adore Maine so much.

5) A week or so ago I finally watched Wings, the first Oscar winner for Best Picture. I expected silent melodrama, and got it. I also got frank violence, male and female nudity (!), one briefly-glimpsed but unmistakable lesbian couple (!!), the first-ever screen kiss between two men (!!!), a young and devastating Gary Cooper, some excellent tracking shots, and possibly the best aerial photography I've ever encountered. Very much worth the while. (I would like to state for the record that I only chuckled a little bit at the title card that read, "Oh, Dave, Dave—I was trying to get just one more Heinie just for you—")

Current Music: "Incapable," Roisin Murphy

1) Text sent to

hypnagogie first thing this morning: "What does it mean when I dream that the screw top for the big hatch on the top of my skull has gotten gunky, so I have to unscrew the lid and walk around with my brain exposed while I try to find something safe to clean both the hatch and my brain surface, which has also gotten schmutzy due to neglect?" My subconscious has all the subtlety of a water buffalo on a Victoria's Secret catwalk.

2) Speaking of cleaning the gunk out of skulls, I had my first neti pot experience over the weekend, which despite my fears was much less "adventures in waterboarding" and more "bad day swimming at the Y." Worth it, though: two minutes of Dear Merciful Zeus Why Am I Doing This, five minutes of Post-Studio 54 Coke Binge Nose-Blowing, and then 12 hours of Holy Bugmonkeys I Can Breathe.

3) I still haven't watched the Netflix/BBC Watership Down. I have no reasonable explanation for this.

4) My creative cycle tends to consist of one project that occupies me body and soul for a week or two, then gets relegated to the back burner along with all of my other unfinished projects until I notice it down the line for another fortnight of obsession. As I type this I'm in the trough section of my creativity wave form, when nothing is poking my brain hard enough to command my attention and the pilot light of my work ethic. This either means I'm just about to latch onto something, or else I'm entering a gross protracted YouTube-and-pretzels-in-bed bummer phase. Since I'd really prefer to avoid the latter, I might just take a lug wrench to the issue and force myself to work on something. Most likely it'll be the Twine project that I was gung ho over a month ago, but we'll see how things play out. Watch this space.

5) The problem with a mild winter is that when the cold and snow finally do arrive, as they inevitably will, I don't feel as if I have the right to bitch about it.

6) Spilling chicken soup in your lunchbox makes peeling and eating clementines a weird experience.

Hope you're having a net-positive week, friends. This here's the downhill stretch.

Current Music: "Hi Babe," Ngozi Family

A random trip through my synapses as I stretch out sybaritically in bed like Caesar Augustus in a Dresden Dolls T-shirt and gunmetal gray knit boxers:

This thing where I wake up at 4 a.m. and then don't fall back to sleep has lost its allure. (I'd not be surprised if its allure got wrested from it at gunpoint in a dark alley.)

I just got a refund check for 2¢. Mailed in an envelope with a 42¢ stamp, natch. Look, I'm not going to cash it, folks, so if you need to balance your books that badly, have your intern Steve chuck a couple of pennies in the little cup by the register at the Stop 'n' Go and we'll call it even.

Strawberry Darrell Lea Soft Eating Licorice, man. Your life will change.

Poor rain_herself is currently drowning in her own mucus right now. She is not happy. Earl Gray tea with a shot of Jameson, stat.

Rehearsal weekend with cluegirl in Troy this weekend: a chance to remind ourselves of some things we may have forgotten. Like, y'know, guitars are the things with the strings and the big hole in the middle, right? (It may have been a while.)

We caught the Oscars with theloriest, blank ballots and a coffee table full of snacks. I managed to see roughly 6.3 of the Best Picture nominees in advance this year, and although I would have loved to have seen Room walk away with it, I wasn't disappointed with how things turned out, even if I did and still do want to punt Sasha Baron Cohen squarely in his smugness gland.

The living room contains many boxen. Tonight, the boxen are empty. Soon, they will be full. The circle of life begins anew.

Aaaaand that'll do. The pillow beneath my unkempt head swallows my resolve and my desire to continue looking at stuff. Catch you on the flipside.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "Considered Random," Lonely Trailer

I have my strongest hopes yet for LiveJournal's impending resurgence: behold, the return of memes, the most prodigal of sons! While we're all partying like it's 2005,

brujah has assigned me the number 15, meaning I am to provide 15 random facts about myself, a game of which my blogger's egomania can only approve. (Reply to this post to receive a number of your own, yada yada, no purchase necessary, void where prohibited, batteries not included.)

Aside from the period immediately following my birth, I have never been hospitalized for any reason. In-hospital procedures and ER visits, yes; being admitted for even one night, no. (Announcing this makes me nervous. I'm fearing a Dorian Gray situation where I use up all my karma and get hit with nine diseases at once, just before a Chevy Impala falls on me.)

When I entered college, my life plan was getting an acting degree. When I left college, my life plan was opening a coffeehouse. I have the temperament for neither.

I have walked out of exactly two movies in my adult life: Fluke (too ridiculous) and Marie Antoinette (too boring).

I didn't start to drive on the interstate until well into my twenties. I had a morbid fear of merging.

I learned guitar using my mom's Goya classical. My first folk guitar, the one I used for over 20 years, was also a Goya, a Christmas/birthday/wedding/graduation gift from my mom. It's now in the hands of my daughter, who's been begging to learn to play. (I taught her E and Em last weekend, then wrote down the chords for "Shake It Off.")

I have in my possession an orange jelly bean that had been allegedly stepped on by one of the Beatles during a concert in 1964. Also from my mom, who got it from her brother for Christmas that year. She cried.

My three notable scars on my hands and arms are from (in reverse chronological order) a hot olive oil splatter, a freaked-out cat, and a failed attempt at knife juggling.

I once turned down a glassblower's offer to be his apprentice. It's one of my great regrets.

I am so obsessed with my morning sesame bagel with cream cheese that the office cafeteria lately has sometimes given me free food to apologize when she's out of stock.

My first real job was as Bingo the Birthday Clown at the Ground Round in Matteson, IL. My trainer was a Janis Joplin clone whose favorite phrase was "groovy-cool" (which I still say), and who called me at home one night drunk off her ass to tell me my horoscope and find out what I "really thought of her." (Older women acting mildly predatory around me was a theme when I was a teen, none of which I noticed until I was much older, looking back and going, "...hey, wait a minute!" When I was 17, I once watched Jeopardy from a hot tub with a married woman in her 30's, completely oblivious to the fact that she was hitting on me even when she insisted on leaning forward dramatically in her bathing suit to talk to me.)

All four of my grandparents were still alive as of my late 20's. I still don't know how to process death.

I often fantasize about winning a lottery or sweepstakes whose prize is a credit card that would never max out, but could only be used to buy food, either in stores or restaurants. I would live such a wondrous life.

Given what a constant it's been in my life since I was old enough to remember, I can't believe it's taken me this long to figure out that I want to be a musician.

I think I may be done with crossword construction. I'm tired of whacking my head against that particular wall.

A few of the songs I've written over the last few months have been among the best I've ever done. I can't wait until they see the light of day.

Current Mood: bored
Current Music: "The List Falls Away," S.J. Tucker

Since my last attempted bullet list was so rudely interrupted by the travails of white-collar labor, let's take another run at this:

The nice thing about the Internet is that if one begins obsessing over, say, the current Icelandic music scene (y'know, as one does), one can actually do something about it. Relatedly, my iTunes playlist has grown not only in song count, but also in accent and umlaut ratios.

Speaking of songs, Sense8 has successfully made me stop hating "What's Up?" by 4 Non-Blondes. This may be proof that the Wachowskis are in fact bona fide geniuses, or at least their team of editors are. (If you haven't been watching, please do. It's slow-going for the first bit, but stick to it.)

Rosemary chicken with mushrooms and duck fat potatoes, with fresh berries and whipped cream for dessert. It may sound like I'm possibly gloating, but in truth? That's exactly what I'm doing.

Have I seriously not mentioned the concerts in this journal? cluegirl and I did a pair of Massachusetts Murder Ballads gigs last month: a very well-attended, very well-received house concert at a gorgeous venue in Medford (thanks again, Kate and assorted housemates!), and an open mic at a Mexican joint in Worcester that was attended by about seven people, four of whom actually gave a rat's badonk. Sing ho for the life of a troubadour!

Apropos of nothing relevant, the side-scrolling cityscape Roku/Netflix screen saver has added at least five minutes to the completion time for this entry. Take that as thou wilt.

rain_herself insists that if I'm a Battlebots fan, I'm not allowed to keep my Criterion Collection DVDs. The Universe is an unfair place.

I need to remember that if I'm going to use my crazed chipmunk voice, I need not to lead off with it. In Trader Joe's, a nectarine fell to the floor on its own accord near me and another guy. He chuckled and said, "Must be a ghost!" I, on the other hand, squealed, "I'M FREEEEEEE!" He backed away rather abruptly. Good call.

Speaking of Trader Joe's, I think there's some cookie-butter cookies left in the cupboard. Over and out.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "Kveldúlfur," Myrra Rós

1) My health insurance lapsed recently, but they've had my renewal paperwork for five or six weeks. An attempt to call and get the story led to a half-hour on hold, followed by a recording that said, "We're sorry, the office is unexpectedly closed. Please try again tomorrow." I'm translating this in my head as "Shit! He's coming! Everybody hide!"

2) Boy, drivers are cranky these days.

3) This past weekend,

cluegirl and I got together for a Murder Ballads work weekend to try and get together the last of the Indiegogo perks. We're juuuuust about there, having written up all of the packaging labels (both to and from) by hand, handwriting thank you cards, and jamming in laminated bookmarks and sticks and CDs and T-shirts; all that's left is lithographs for those who are receiving them and hauling the whole mess out to the post office. With our tongues still coated in envelope glue, we then had ourselves a grand old last-minute song circle with

aquila_dominus,

blimix,

light_in_motion, and a handful of folks without LJ handles that I'm aware of. (We debuted a couple of new ones, "Spider and Wasp" and "Fireside," and did an arse-punting run of "White Stag," which is poised to become our new crowd favorite.)

4) The other thing Catt and I did this weekend: made a birthday video for the divine Miss S.J. Tucker. We're downright smug about it.

Current Mood: sore
Current Music: "Way It Is, Way it Could Be," The Weather Station

The CD copies of Pretty in Scarlet have finally arrived, saints be praised, and they're a shiny wonder to behold; I'm still staring at them and going, "Holy spotted monkeyfruit, we made that." We'll be offering them for sale at the Bandcamp site soon enough, as well as getting them out to our Indiegogo backers as soon as we get the whole postage thing figured out.

Relatedly, the CD release party this past Saturday at Professor Java's in Albany was an utter blast. We got Marnen on fiddle and Matt Young on bodhran to join us onstage (winging it, as we gave them zero opportunity to rehearse with us, or even learn the songs), which sent us into total rock star mode. Yes, we got video, and yes, we'll be doing one in the Boston area, probably at Arisia (we haven't heard back from the music track people, so it'll probably be an actual party-type party rather than a stage concert, even if we have to set up camp in the damn lobby). Lessons learned: if you tell the audience the funny story about covering "Sexy and I Know It," the audience will want to hear it.

Any plans I might have had last night were scuttled by dizzy spells of the lie-on-you-back-in-a-dark-room-and-don't-move variety. No fun, and I haven't a clue where they stemmed from. You can stop that now, brain.

The quickest way to get Adam to want to work for your company is to post Craigslist job openings that contain multiple F-bombs and a photo of a shirtless Alex Trebek. Also helpful is a voice mail system that begins with the words, "Welcome to the galactic headquarters of [name of company]." Now if only they'd answer my phone calls....

I have re-instated my ongoing tawdry love affair with Shake'n'Bake pork chops and cheap insta-stuffing. You cannot confine me with damning shame, haters.

Current Mood: weird
Current Music: "Bang Your Head," Milla Jovovich

So, hey! I haven't done this since LJ's heyday, I don't think. but since LJ seems to continue burgeoning despite protestations to the contrary this might be a good way to take the community's pulse, as it were, so what the hell.

GIVEN: I've got another hour of work to slog through.
GIVEN: My attention span went kersploosh somethere before lunchtime, along with the cup of coffee that finally put me over the line.
GIVEN: I am, suffice it to say, bored off my ever-lovin' fundament.
GIVEN: There are only so many back episodes of Pop Culture Happy Hour one can consume in a day before one starts sounding frighteningly like Glen Weldon (see also "burgeoning," "protestations," and "fundament" above).

CONCLUSION: Adam needs help.

What I'm saying is: Divert me. Please, for the love of Hannah.

Current Mood: bored
Current Music: "Boring," The Pierces

Last night I had intermittent tooth pain, and <lj user="rain_herself"> took medication that wired her like a pinball machine, so we're both pretty nicely sleep-depped. This pretty much explains tonight's highlights as follows:

* * *

Andrea at one point took to whacking herself in the forehead with a plastic clipboard. I took the opposing tactic of whacking the same clipboard with my head. Neither of us knows why. (No, not at the same time. That would be silly.)

* * *

Andrea: [earwormed on "Escape (The Piña Colada Song)" all evening, sings] If you like makin' love at midniiiiight...and gettin' saaaaand in your cooch....

* * *

Andrea: [wraps both arms around my elbow]
Me: That's my elbow.
Andrea: It's mine now.
Me: Heyyy, don't bogart that joint.
Andrea: [glares flying daggers, then grabs my beard in one fist, pulling]
Me: [long pause, pondering] I don't know what to do in this situation. This is not in the handbook.

Current Mood: weird
Current Music: "Escape (The Piña Colada Song)," Rupert Holmes

rain_herself's birthday weekend was pretty close to ideal. (Since I don't think I mentioned it here: Happy birthday, Andrea! Love you!) Plans to hit the beach were scrapped on account of didn't wanna, but we had shrimp scampi and fettuccine Alfredo and too much wine and cake and cookies that she baked because birthday that's why, which we ate while cuddling on the couch and enjoying a Commercial Sex Transactions for Better or Worse Film Festival (that'd be Pretty Woman followed by Wayne Wang's The Center of the World, a.k.a. Bizarro Pretty Woman). On Sunday for her birthday proper we hit Bocado, the local tapas place (courtesy of Chaos), and engaged in more couch citizenship largely because the couch is right under the AC window unit. Good times!

* Speaking of international food options, we finally found a triple-threat Thai carryout place in Worcester that is (a) cheap, (b) tasty, and (c) on the way home from work (essential in a town that doesn't believe in non-pizza delivery). On the downside, their Web menu has what has to be the most unfortunate typo I've ever witnessed:

Chicken Steamed Dumpling $4.95
Minced chicken with onion and scallion raped with flour serve with ginger sauce

Um. Really, thanks, guys, but I'm just looking for some noodles, ~~not a Dusan Makavejev movie.~~ (Oh, for Crying out loud, Adam, when your snotty film references get so obscure that even you don't actually get them without an IMDb lookup, it's time to quit. Sorry. *sigh*)

* CNBC filmed an interview in my building the other day, close enough to my desk that we couldn't use the photocopier for a half-hour. I gave serious consideration to screaming, "NO! NOT THE TASER AGAIN! I'LL BE GOOD! I PROMISE! AIEEEEE!"

* Don't promise me rain if you're not going to deliver. That's a warning, meteorologists.

Current Mood: weird
Current Music: "You Shook Me All Night Long," Bing Ji Ling

* Facebook can go scratch. Seriously.

* Kettle Cheddar Beer Chips are both tasty and insufficient.

* I am lounging about in my jellyfish umbrella shirt and my executive boxers. The latter is tangible evidence that it's laundry day.

* The new blanket has Sudafed-levels of sleep-inducing power. It also apparently instills me with occasional gory serial killer dreams, so I'm approaching with caution.

* My one lingering thought regarding the Oscars: if Roger Deakins and Thomas Newman don't frickin' win something soon, I'm a-gonna start sugaring Academy members' gas tanks. That is all.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "The Body Electric," Hurray for the Riff Raff

Such as:

1) Successfully left the house for work at 5 a.m. two mornings in a row while refraining from taking hostages, punching innocent bystanders, or consuming my body weight in Pepsi

2) Had a glorious job interview at Place I Really Want to Work, to be described more fully when I am not recovering from item #1 above

3) Arranged a job interview for second place next week, and got invited to meet at a third

4) Hauled the first carload of stuff to the new place—y'know, essential stuff, like books, DVDs, the mandolin and the dulcimer, and the braid

5) Met the third roommate (does she have an LJ,

jasra and

majes?), so I can now say with authority that my new roomies all display vast levels of Awesomeness

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "What Did You Do Today?" Equation

A numbered miscellany list, because Heaven knows no one's ever done a blog post like that before:

1) I had a phone interview from a Internet promotions company in Waltham today, and it went well enough to score an in-person follow-up this Thursday. Really nice salary, equally nice benefits, nifty products, work I'm immensely qualified for, no weekend hours, don't appear to be evil. Crossing digits in four...three...two....

2) I was just poking back through some old entries, and stumbled on one I'd forgotten I'd written about a recording session I did back in 2003. The resultant recordings vanished in the bowels of Jimmy's digital thingamabob before I could even hear them, but I did include a playlist of the ten demo tracks I laid down that day: one of them was a traditional number, three of them eventually ended up (in a different form) on The Elmsley Count, one ended up on Opposable Thumbs, one I've performed but never re-recorded, three I've never even performed even though I still know them by heart, and one I have no forking idea what it was. I know I wrote it, I know I liked it well enough to commit to CD in 2003, but otherwise? Total tequila-bender-level mind-scrub. Weird.

3) I had an apple yesterday, and I swear to you it was the greatest thing in civilization. My flesh wept. (Perhaps I could use some more fruits and veggies in my life.)

4) Packing has officially begun. A long, long way to go.

5) At the store, I forgot to buy shipping tape and avocados. Unrelated. I hope.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "4 Out of 5," Soul Coughing

• Half a snow day today, and the gods' blessings upon landlords who do the plowing themselves. I fared better getting to work than I did getting home, which itself was fine until the snowbank I landed Rufus the White Honda in. I'm pretty sure I can get out again, provided I have access to the shovel.

• This past weekend was a Kids Weekend. Inter-sibling combat was substantially down, teen melodrama was holding steady, and there was a talent show and a matinee of Oz the Great and Powerful in the mix, the former mostly making up for the deficiencies in the latter.

•

figmentj whipped up some homemade cocoa mix, and now I have no idea why I'm typing this malarkey when I could be making cocoa right expletive-deletedly now.

• For those of you who understand the importance of this: THE DROVERS NOT ONLY DID A REUNION SHOW LAST WEEKEND IN CHICAGO BUT ALSO RELEASED ALL THEIR MUSICAL OUTPUT ON THE ITUNES STORE INCLUDING PREVIOUSLY UNRELEASED MATERIAL WHICH IS MAKING ME ALL-CAPS AT EVERYBODY UNTIL I PASS OUT. Thank you.

• Yes, there are big things of major bigness that I haven't discussed here yet. Let me get my brain around what I want to say. All is well, kids.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "Fountains of Amrita," The Drovers

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Syndicate

Page Summary

Gallimaufry
Trying to Fred Flintstone foot-drive this operation
A smattering of chattering
The sun still rises, the earth still turns, 5 things still make a post
Greetings from the couch, and may I never again leave its friendly embrace
5 things for Sunday, none of which are current events 'cause I like my blood pressure where it is
Five. Five things. Yup, that's what we've got here.
Don't call it a six random items post, call it an experiential anthology
It's really hard titling random blog entries if you've been doing them for 13 years
Behold the things! All fifteen thereof!
So! Shall we try this again?
Things: a subset of stuff
Five blahs make a blah blah blah
Because bent paper clips are inherently limited as an art form
We save a fortune on hallucinogens this way
Procrastination reconciliation
The return to reliable LJ posting, five bullet points at a time
Because I achieve things, that's why
The random five: they be few, but they be mighty
When reason has faded, the bullet points shall rise

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Page generated Jul. 3rd, 2025 06:59 pm

Fond of rumpots, crackpots, and how are you, Mr. Wilson?

Entries tagged with random

Gallimaufry

Trying to Fred Flintstone foot-drive this operation

A smattering of chattering

The sun still rises, the earth still turns, 5 things still make a post

Greetings from the couch, and may I never again leave its friendly embrace

5 things for Sunday, none of which are current events 'cause I like my blood pressure where it is

Five. Five things. Yup, that's what we've got here.

Don't call it a six random items post, call it an experiential anthology

It's really hard titling random blog entries if you've been doing them for 13 years

Behold the things! All fifteen thereof!

So! Shall we try this again?

Things: a subset of stuff

Five blahs make a blah blah blah

Because bent paper clips are inherently limited as an art form

We save a fortune on hallucinogens this way

Procrastination reconciliation

The return to reliable LJ posting, five bullet points at a time

Because I achieve things, that's why

The random five: they be few, but they be mighty

When reason has faded, the bullet points shall rise